


give me one good honest kiss

by corpsesoldier



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, F/F, Kissing, Pining, Pre-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:21:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23329153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corpsesoldier/pseuds/corpsesoldier
Summary: Everything is ending soon. Edelgard takes her last chance to hold on to what she can't have.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 7
Kudos: 163





	give me one good honest kiss

**Author's Note:**

> yes I listened to mitski and had emotions about it

The night had grown late by the time Edelgard and Byleth returned to the monastery. Their visit to Enbarr had been productive; she was crowned and had stripped at least one of the cult’s snivelling lackeys of his power. But she hadn’t wanted to stay any longer than necessary. The palace hadn’t felt like her home for a very long time—it felt like a tomb, crowded with the shades of her siblings, her imagination conjuring their pleading eyes or their scarred, reaching hands. She didn’t know how she would have managed without the professor beside her.

That was the problem.

“Let me walk you to your room?” Byleth stopped and looked back at her, face unreadable as ever. In the moonlight, her pale hair looked almost as white as Edelgard’s own.

“That isn’t necessary,” she said automatically. She was emperor now; she didn’t need anyone looking after her. And the professor was surely tired. 

Byleth smiled at her, a faint curve of her lips, and Edelgard had to look away. “Please,” Byleth said. “With everything that’s happened, I’d feel better to know you were safe.”

She offered her arm like a gallant knight and Edelgard hesitated only a moment before taking it. She could spare her professor this one small disappointment, at least.

“As you wish, my teacher.”

The walk to her dorm seemed much longer than usual. Edelgard was conscious of Byleth’s warmth close beside her, the feeling of her strong arm beneath her hands, the way she shortened her stride to keep pace with her. Something enormous pressed at the confines of her ribcage. Something she wouldn’t name, something she would not be permitted. 

The monastery was so beautiful at night. Stars speckled the placid fishing pond and the greenhouse perfumed the air outside the dorms with the thick scent of growth. Even the quiet sounds of her sleeping classmates were comforting. The world was very far away from this peaceful place. 

The two of them stopped outside her door. Edelgard didn’t immediately drop Byleth’s arm. Just now, she didn’t feel like the emperor. The two of them could have been anyone, and she wasn’t ready to let go.

“Edelgard? Is everything okay?” It was a testament to how attuned she was to Byleth that she could hear the concern in her voice.

The moment before she did something foolish always seemed to stretch away from her. Right now it felt like a strand of glass pulled thin between them, ready to cut her if she reached for it. 

“Would you like to come inside? For tea?” She asked.

Byleth stepped away from her and Edelgard braced herself for Byleth to decline. But instead the professor only turned to face her. Whatever she saw in Edelgard’s eyes chased the doubt from her face.

“I’d love to. Though I will confess to not having any bergamot blend on me.”

Edelgard ducked her head to hide the color in her cheeks. “Not to worry,” she said, turning to open the door. “Ferdinand has kept me well stocked with all manner of tea. I’m sure we’ll find something suitable.”

She hurriedly lit the lamps to keep them from stumbling over each other in the dark. Byleth crouched to strike a fire in the small iron stove. Edelgard was aware of her pulse racing in her throat as she watched the muscles in Byleth’s back move. This felt very different than taking tea in the sunlit gardens. 

“Water’s on,” Byleth announced, standing. She leaned casually against Edelgard’s desk and if she noticed how her student stood, awkward and unsure in the middle of the room, she chose not to comment on it. 

“Thank you, my teacher.” She didn’t know where to move, what to say. Byleth—standing in her room, watching her—felt simultaneously too close and too far away. 

“So, Your Majesty,” Byleth said. “How does it feel to be emperor?”

That almost startled a laugh out of her. It felt like the weight of the world rested on her back. It felt like walking on a path that only went one way. It felt like standing at the edge of the world and refusing to look back.

Not much different from the rest of her life, really. 

But she only said, “It feels correct. Like I’m finally fulfilling the purpose I was made for. And please,” she added, “just Edelgard.”

Byleth watched her, something sharp and thoughtful in her eyes. “I don’t think,” she said, considering, “that anyone else could have made you. If you have a purpose, then you made it yourself. Edelgard.”

“El, actually,” she said breathlessly. Her face burned as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

Byleth tilted her head, a question.

Too late to take it back. And maybe she didn’t want to. “You can call me El. No one else does, not anymore.”

“You should call me Byleth then. No need to be formal. This isn’t exactly a classroom.”

It very much was not. It was her bedroom, and Byleth was right there, and Edelgard couldn’t tell if she was so hot from the fire or from the way the professor was looking at her.

“Byleth,” she said, deliberate.

And Byleth really smiled then, flashing her teeth. “El,” she echoed.

Something was unraveling inside Edelgard. Byleth didn’t see the leader of the Adrestian Empire when she looked at her. She didn’t see the Flame Emperor. She didn’t see something broken and scarred. She only saw Edelgard. 

There was too much at stake, too much that had already been lost, for her to be just Edelgard. It had been nice to pretend, for a time, but she had been careless. She had been selfish. And now Byleth looked at her and saw someone that Edelgard thought had died in the dark long ago, someone she could no longer be, but she wanted—

The kettle chose that moment to boil.

Edelgard jumped. She lurched across the room toward the stove, but Byleth was closer and had only to turn. Instead of the kettle’s handle, Edelgard’s fingers fell on Byleth’s hand and she yanked her arm back like she’d brushed the stove.

“Sorry,” she said. “Sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll get the cups.”

Byleth set the kettle aside and, with her other hand, reached out to catch Edelgard’s elbow before she could slip out of reach. Edelgard froze. She realized how she must look to her preternaturally composed teacher, eyes wide, face flushed, heart beating so fast the whole dorm could probably hear it.

Byleth met her eyes, brow furrowed slightly. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

The problem was that Edelgard _wanted._ There were a great many things she wanted for her people, her country, for the rest of the world. That was familiar, that had always come first. But to want something for herself, wanting it so completely she felt she was shaking from the enormity of it—she had no idea what to do. 

She couldn’t have this. Not if she wanted to build her better tomorrow. She’d always known that.

But—

This little interlude was ending soon. Her crown and her path waited ahead of her. But right now it was just the two of them, and maybe she could pretend to be El a little longer. The future seemed distant, and Byleth was touching her, and she felt bright and real with selfishness. Maybe she could keep this moment for herself, just this once.

She shouldn’t. What she _should_ do is pour Byleth some tea, wish her goodnight, and try to forget about the things she couldn’t have. What she would do, if she were stronger.

Byleth had seen her weakness before.

Instead of pulling away, Edelgard stepped forward. She raised one trembling hand and cupped Byleth’s cheek. She ran her thumb along a raised scar on her teacher’s jaw from a bandit’s sword, as she had imagined doing more than once, and her breath caught.

“Byleth.” It came out as a sigh. “Would you permit me…?”

She searched the professor’s face for any discomfort, any rejection, and found only open curiosity. Byleth’s gaze was too much to bear, so Edelgard closed her eyes and leaned in.

The kiss was a halting, delicate thing at first. Byleth’s lips were cool and dry and Edelgard lingered there, neither of them moving. But this was probably her last chance to have something that felt this good, this real, and damn all the saints if she wasn’t going to make it worth it. 

Her hand slid from Byleth’s cheek to the back of her neck, tangling her fingers in her hair, and she drew her down more intently. Byleth made a soft sound and her lips parted and—oh—she was kissing her _back._

Edelgard drew back in shock and turned away, her heart racing, unable to draw a proper breath. 

“Professor, I—I’m sorry—” she stammered. She, of all people, should be able to exercise restraint. Instead, she lost control and had taken advantage of someone she cared for, her professor surely exhausted and confused. Her skin burned with shame. She had tried to take something for herself and surely ruined it. “That was inappropriate of me, please—please forgive me.”

There was no response and Edelgard’s heart gave a sick lurch.

“Professor?” She looked back, expecting disgust or anger, and stopped at the look on Byleth’s face. She had never seen her professor breathless before, not during training, not after hours on the battlefield...not until this moment. She was staring at Edelgard, eyes wide, face flushed, looking like she’d had something strange and precious ripped from her grasp.

“Why did you stop?” Byleth managed, her hand hanging empty in the space Edelgard had occupied a moment before. “I—Wait, I want—”

And then there was no space between them, and it was Byleth leaning in, Byleth’s hand on _her_ neck. Edelgard gasped into her mouth and Byleth groaned in response, drawing her closer still. 

Edelgard tried to fix every detail of this moment in her memory. Byleth’s hands in her hair, at her hip, her own palm pinned to Byleth’s chest above her strangely silent heart. Byleth’s teeth catching her lip painfully and Edelgard drawing back, only for Byleth to chase her, soothing the spot with a lingering brush of her tongue. The way that Byleth pushed back when Edelgard pressed close, meeting her halfway. When everything ended, she wanted to recall it perfectly, to know it had really happened. 

She didn’t realize she was crying until Byleth pulled away, until her hand came up to brush away the tears with the pad of her thumb. “El,” she said softly. “Can’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

Something broke inside Edelgard. She shook her head wordlessly and turned to press her face into Byleth’s palm.

Goddess, she wanted to _stay._

Byleth hummed an acknowledgment and gathered Edelgard into a hug. Her breathing was slow and regular, her arms a solid weight against her back, as though trying to remind Edelgard that, whatever else might be, she was here with her.

But she wouldn’t always be.

“Time is slipping away,” she forces out through hitching breaths. “Everything is going to change and—” And she wasn’t ready. She bit off the words before she could speak them. She shouldn’t have said anything at all; Hubert was forever warning her about trusting the professor too readily when their situation was so precarious. But she had spoken and Byleth could interpret it as she liked. All Edelgard knew was that she couldn’t remember a time she had felt safer.

The magnitude of her mistake settled over her. Wanting was dangerous enough, but _acting_ on it had been singularly foolish. She’d expected to be pushed away, to be soundly rejected, even humiliated. It would have hurt, but then it would have been over. She would have been free. But now. She wasn’t sure what she was, now.

Byleth pulled her down to sit on the edge of the bed and continued to hold her. Edelgard tried desperately to stop _crying._ But the dam that held back her tears was broken, the pieces lost. This was her own damned fault. Her stupid mistakes, her stupid heart. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured into Byleth’s shoulder, when she’d calmed enough to speak.

“Shh,” Byleth soothed. She pressed her lips to the top of Edelgard’s head and it sent her heart fluttering again. _Stupid, stupid._

She would give anything to stay just like this. Almost anything.

“El.” She could feel Byleth’s breath against her skin and suppressed a shiver. “I can’t say I understand. But whatever it is, we can handle it. Whatever comes, whatever changes, I’ll be by your side.”

She didn’t know what she was saying. But Edelgard couldn’t stop the warm, expanding feeling in her chest, the same impulse that had driven her to reach out for Byleth in the first place. She didn’t know how—didn’t want?—to uproot the tiny flower of hope.

“What do you say?” Byleth asked. Edelgard could feel her smile. “Together?”

She let out a shaky breath. This was more familiar ground, making promises she couldn’t keep. “Together,” she said.

They sat like that a little longer, until Byleth raised her head. “Ah. I think the kettle’s gone cold.”

Edelgard surprised herself with a hoarse laugh. “That’s all right. I think the last thing I need right now is caffeine.”

Byleth seemed to take her words as some sign and gently untangled herself, rising to leave. Without thinking, Edelgard curled her fingers around Byleth’s wrist. _Not much time left._

For perhaps the first time, her professor’s expression was as clear to her as water. Tired and worried and fond and, beneath it all, happy. “Get some rest, El.”

She leaned down, tilted Edelgard’s chin up, and kissed her again. Brief and gentle, over too soon.

“We’ll deal with tomorrow when it comes,” Byleth said. And she was gone.

Edelgard dropped her head into her hands. The room felt too cold in Byleth’s absence, and sleep didn’t find her for some time.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also follow me on tumblr [here!](https://corpsesoldier.tumblr.com)


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